Italy and Romano birthday 2011
by UnhelpfulPanda
Summary: ah...plotless, pretty much. but sweet, in my opinion. not late, at lease  tried really hard to make sure it wasn't...   btw, the couples are GerIta and Spamano, not Itacest


sorry its later in the day. gah, now I have to START Ireland's fanfic! damn it...

anyways, I pulled most of the plot out of my ass a week ago. and then left it for Harvest Moon DS and Pokemon Soul Silver. and then yesterday, I pulled most of the story out of my ass. and then today, when I got home, I pulled the ending out of my ass. I hope you like this, because I'm sure if I actually pulled that much out of my ass, it would be hurting as much as Italy and Romano's asses do...yeah, enjoy

oh, on an added note, I include my headcanon on WWII. read more about it in the end notes.

* * *

Italy was cooking pasta when Romano barged into the room. "How could he say that? That bastard!" Italy turned around.

"Veeee?" He asked in his own, special Italian way. Romano kicked a wall, swore because that hurt, kicked the fridge, swore because that hurt too, kicked a chair, swore because that hurt too (does he ever learn?), and sat down in another chair.

"Antonio said '_why would I ever come spend time with you? I don't care about your birthday __**because I'm an asshole**__!_' I mean, obviously he didn't say that last part but damn it, he implied it!" Romano ranted.

"Ve, I'm sure its all a big misunderstanding," Italy reassured.

"I thought he was my-" Romano blushed, "my boyfriend. Don't boyfriends care about their boyfriends' birthdays? I care about his! I mean, I took him out to dinner, got into my Chibimano dress (I was shocked it actually _sorta _fit...), did all sorts of dirty things for him, and had hot, kinky sex with him on _his_ birthday!"

"Ve~, brain bleach..."

"I just wanted to spend time with him, and he tells me he doesn't care?"

"Ve~, I'm sure its a misunderstanding," Italy reassured again, unsure of whether Romano had heard him the first time.

"How could he? I hate him! CHIGI!"

"Lovi, I'm sure its a big, fat misunderstanding," Italy reassured, louder this time.

"Damn it, you said that twice already! You stupid little brother! I bet you'll just hang out with that ugly Potato all day! You're so useless! I-" Romano started to shout.

"WAHHHH!" Italy broke down into tears. At once, Romano regretted saying all those harsh things to him and ran to hug him.

"Wait, Feli, I didn't mean those things. Fratello, you know I love you. Fratello~! Ti amo!" Romano tried to comfort.

"L-Lovi, you said such harsh things!" Italy bawled. Romano hugged him again, but Italy pulled away. "S-stop, I'm making us pasta! I-I hope you like the extra salt my tears give it!" Italy cried dramatically.

"Feli, don't be upset!" Romano whined. Italy sniffled.

"Okay~!" He grinned brightly. Romano felt his eye start to twitch a bit.

"I'm going to bed. I take it I won't see you in the morning?" Romano inquired. Italy turned around with the brothers' dinner in his hands.

"Ve? I'm spending the day with Luddy, si. Won't you have your pasta, ve?" Italy offered. Romano declined grumpily, storming away. "**Don't you storm away from me**." The warning sent a shiver down Romano's spine.

"B-b-but Feliciano, I-I'm not hungry," Romano stuttered. Italy had his hands on his hips.

"I _slaved _over that stove, putting my _love _and _tears _into making it for my dear Fratello, and he isn't hungry? Lovino! _Mangia questa subito, giovanotto_!" Romano cringed, coming back and reluctantly eating his pasta. Delighted, Feliciano did so as well.

* * *

Italy and Germany sat on the side of the bridge, looking down into the river. "Ve~, Antonio said harsh things to Fratello," Italy suddenly announced.

"I'm sure its all a big misunderstanding," Germany explained.

"That's what I said! Luddy, Antonio said he didn't care about Lovi's birthday and he wasn't going to hang out with him," Italy whined.

"That's odd..." Germany frowned. "By the way, Gilbert got you a new, uh, _outfit_. He said the other one was...ahem, _stained_," Germany's face went red. Italy giggled and kissed the German's cheek.

* * *

"AWESOME!" Romano fell out of his chair, wiping angrily at his tears. Prussia strutted into the room, stopping when he saw Romano. "Eh?"

"What are you doing here, albino turkey?" Romano growled.

"Okay, if you're going to insult me, do it properly. Its albino _chicken_, thank you very much!" Prussia huffed. Romano blew a raspberry at the younger man. "Hey, are you crying?" Prussia asked slyly.

"No! Why would I be?" Romano spat angrily, wiping the certainly-not-tears from his cheeks.

"Because Tonio's passionate side drove you to tears ALL. NIGHT. LONG! And baby, you're still crying!" Prussia cheered, shooting finger-guns suggestively at the Italian.

Romano scoffed. "Idiota said he didn't care about my birthday," Romano muttered.

"Kesesese, awesome joke!" Prussia cackled. Realizing the older man was not joking, he straightened his back. "Tonio wouldn't say something like that," Prussia frowned.

"Well, he did."

Silence followed until Prussia knelt down by Romano's side. "Hey. Hey, Onii-sama." Romano looked up into the Prussian's face. Prussia's crimson eyes searched Romano's golden ones. "That was a mistake. You hear me? A _mistake_. Antonio would never say that. Its a fluke!" Prussia insisted.

"Of course it is," Romano scoffed. "I don't understand. Antonio says he loves me and I say I hate him, but when I finally want to tell him I love him, he practically says he hates me!" Romano ranted.

"Hohonhon~!" France chuckled, dancing into the room. Spain glomped Romano.

"I LOVE YOU TOO! TE AMO, TE AMO! LO SIENTO, MI AMOR!" Spain bawled.

"E-eh? Get off me, bastardo!" Romano screeched. Prussia blinked.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

Germany brushed Italy's hair behind his ear. Italy shifted in his sleep, burying his face into Germany's neck. "Luddy..." he sighed contently.

"Ich liebe dich," Germany whispered into Italy's hair. Italy opened one golden eye and looked up with a small smile.

"Ti amo," He replied softly. Germany kissed the Italian's forehead."We didn't do much today," Italy mused.

"Yeah, the author mostly focused on Romano."

"What?"

"What?"

"Nevermind," Italy mumbled, kissing Germany's nose. Germany smiled softly. Italy picked his camera up. "Ve~, Luddy?"

"Ja?"

"Can you wear this and smile for the camera, ve?" Italy asked hopefully, holding up a kippah (that funny-looking Jewish hat).

"F-Feli! That's not nice! You know that was my boss," Germany scolded.

"Si, si, I know. We were locked in the same house, remember?" Italy grinned.

"Ja..." Germany started to growl low in his throat.

"They joined forces and locked their countries up. You were first, and Lizzy, Lovino, and I joined after, but then Lizzy's boss died and she escaped. And then Kiku joined us. Soon after, Lizzy was locked up with us again, and then Romania, Slovakia, and Bulgaria joined us," Italy recalled.

"You didn't realize at first that I was a prisoner. You thought I wanted all of that to happen," Germany frowned. Italy looked up at his lover.

"I thought...I thought you were too strong to be locked up, Ludwig. Mi dispiace," Italy frowned.

"Its okay, Feliciano. It was a long time ago. By the way, you're much stronger than you look," Germany eyed the seemingly useless country.

"I was opposed to the Nazis, and I thought you were a Nazi! I wanted to punch something and your face was _right_ _there_!" Italy protested. Germany laughed. Silence followed.

"The Jewish were Germans too. Whenever they died..." Germany looked up. "It hurt. Badly." Italy nodded, laying his head on Germany's lap.

"I know, la mia vita," Italy whispered. He looked up. "Will you still wear it?"

"Nein," Germany huffed. Italy sighed.

"Okay..." He laid back down for a moment, but then jumped back up and ran out of the room. Germany frowned, shrugging and relaxing.

After about fifteen minutes, Germany heard a seductive purr of, "Ludwig~." His head snapped up to face the Italian, who smirked in his Oktoberfest beer girl outfit that showed off all his (coughmanlycough) curves and secret abs.

"F-F-Feli?" Germany squeaked. "I-is that your n-new o-o-outfit?" He stuttered out. Italy pushed him back into the couch and straddled him.

"It is. I'm your little beer wench, Ludwig, and I'll do anything you want," Italy whispered into Germany's ear. "Just don't stain this one, too." Germany's face went red, and he felt some blood dribble down from his nose.

* * *

**THE END**-I mean, wait!

"Did you hear that?" Romano moaned out. Spain looked down at him, listening for anyone.

"There's nothing, Lovino," Spain breathed out, wiping sweat from his forehead. Romano sat up, his bare chest glistening with sweat–his and Spain's.

"Are you sure? Are your stupid friends still here?" Romano growled.

"Loviiiii!" Spain whined. "C'mon, let's keep going," He pleaded. Romano leaned forward and nipped lightly at Spain's collarbone, earning a small noise from the Spaniard.

"I'm tired," He huffed.

"But I want to make it up to you for earlier~!" Spain whined.

"No, you want sex."

"Make-up sex!"

"Is that why you said those mean things to me?" Romano snarled. Spain's forest green eyes went wide.

"No! No, Lovi, of course not!" Spain hugged his lover tightly. "Francis said you didn't love me, and I said you did, and he said '_distance makes the heart grow fonder_' and I said '_what the fuck does that mean_?' and he said '_if you refuse to be with him on his birthday and say mean things to him, he'll realize he loves you_' and I said '_shut up, whore_' and he said '_don't call me a whore. I'd be expensive if I charged_' and I said '_whatever. You probably have super AIDS_' and he said '_no I protect myself unlike you and that boy toy_' and I said _'don't call Lovino that_!' and he said '_you really should use protection because countries can get pregnant_' and I said '_hello? Sicily_?' and he said '_oh yeah_' and I said-"

"That went on for much longer than it should have," Romano interrupted.

"Lo siento..." Spain grinned. Romano sighed and curled up next to his lover. "Te amo, Lovi."

"Ti...amo..." Romano whispered as he slipped off into sleep. Spain grinned brightly.

* * *

translations are basic Italian/Spanish/German except when Italy is scolding Romano in the beginning. He says "eat it now, young man" or something along those lines. google translate if you'd like

WWII headcanon-in my opinion, the Jewish people who were being murdered (along with...almost everyone else) were Germans too. therefore, in my opinion, killing off the Jewish people living in Germany would have hurt Ludwig because they are German residents. So in my opinion, Ludwig wouldn't have allowed it, but his boss (you all know who his boss was, but I'm doing what Hetalia does and not saying his name) locked him up so he had no choice. Similiarly, I decided the other axis powers were locked up because why would Feliciano and Kiku ally with a country like that?

I don't want debate on this like "how dare you? Jews aren't Germans, they are beneath us!" because that will never be true and I don't want to hear it. I'm not saying you can't mention my headcanon like "interesting theory" or "I disagree with that" or "I agree with that" or whatever, but don't bash it and don't be racist assholes. please.


End file.
